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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26930833">Yours for the Taking</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPshipper98/pseuds/OTPshipper98'>OTPshipper98</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(no actual mpreg or body horror—they happen only in Draco's mind), (this one is between Harry and Draco), (those are between Tom and Draco), Alpha Harry Potter, Alpha Tom Riddle, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Angst, Claiming, Dubious Consent, Good Harry Potter, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marking, Omega Draco Malfoy, Omega Verse, Powerful Harry Potter, Protective Harry Potter, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scenting, Self-Lubrication, Threats of Violence, brief description of pregnancy-related body horror</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:41:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,265</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26930833</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPshipper98/pseuds/OTPshipper98</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco was raised to be the perfect Omega, but there are things even he cannot endure. When he discovers just what Tom Riddle's plans for him are once he's claimed him he is confronted with an impossible decision. Only one thing remains clear: he will never be able to go back home.</p><p>Luckily, Harry Potter is there to save the day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1010</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Yours for the Taking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ununquadius/gifts">ununquadius</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Unun, because I know she loves it when I make her suffer 😇</p><p>Thank you to TheLightFury, Dewitty1, and Ununquadius for cheerleading, and to TheLightFury for betaing! Any remaining mistakes are my own.</p><p>Please <b>read the tags carefully</b> before reading the fic! And just so it doesn't catch anyone off guard, I invented a new A/B/O category called Supralpha just because I could XD</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We can assure you, Mr Riddle,” his father was saying, adding just the right amount of pride into his business-like tone to make it clear just how valuable he had raised Draco to be, “his medical record is pristine. Heats every 28 days sharp, ideal hormone levels throughout the month, weekly medical checks since he was eight years old.”</p><p>Draco felt Riddle’s eyes on him, and kept his own perfectly trained on the floor; his body perfectly still, in the submissive but regal position his parents had so thoroughly trained him to adopt in front of Alphas from outside his family.</p><p>The perfect pose to convey, <em>I’m yours. Take me.</em></p><p>To show just the right amount of fear without making him look weak.</p><p>It was a good thing he was in perfect control of his features, because he really just wanted to cry.</p><p>“Very well,” Riddle said after a moment, his tone completely neutral. Was that a good sign or a bad one? Draco breathed slowly—waiting. “If you will allow me to inspect him...”</p><p>“Of course, of course!” His father sounded enthusiastic. He had every reason to be. “Take all the time you need, Mr Riddle. My wife and I will be outside when you need us.”</p><p>Without a word toward Draco, his parents exited the room.</p><p>Draco carefully kept the rising fear away from his face. Kept his eyes on the floor, waiting. Waiting for the <em>inspection</em>. The word alone made him want to shiver. He knew Riddle could not take his virginity, not until the claiming ceremony; still, there was a lot he <em>could </em>do to ensure Draco was an appropriate Omega to bring into his house. <em>One does not buy faulty property</em>, his father had repeated over, and over, and over throughout the years. He’d said it every Sunday while Healer Pomfrey inspected him; had repeated it to exhaustion as he paced the room, sparing glances at Draco to make sure he was paying attention to him; to make sure that everything was in order for the day of his claiming.</p><p>At least Draco knew for sure Riddle would not find a defect in him, no matter how thoroughly he looked.</p><p>“Well?” Riddle said—more like <em>growled</em>, Draco thought, a shiver running through his body—as he took a step toward Draco. “Are you not going to cry?”</p><p>Draco raised his head, stared at him in confusion—a confusion that soon turned into fear when he saw the expression on Riddle’s face. His wicked smile, twisted with disgust. His hungry eyes boring right through Draco.</p><p>“Are you not going to beg me not to hurt you? Not to ruin you?”</p><p>He was face to face with Draco now, so close Draco could smell his breath as he towered over him as much as their slight height difference would allow.</p><p>“No, of course you aren’t. You’ve been <em>trained</em>, haven’t you? To behave, to act, to <em>hide</em>.” Riddle’s hand pressed into Draco’s chest then, sliding easily through his silken robe, the only thing he was wearing so as to facilitate Riddle’s inspection. Two fingers found his nipple and started circling it. “But once I <em>own you</em>,” Riddle murmured in his ear. “Once you’re <em>mine</em>, I will break down that facade bit by bit by <em>bit</em>.” He squeezed Draco’s nipple, hard, and Draco couldn’t suppress a whine. “I will turn you into the whore that you are. I will tear your body to shreds. I will make sure you’ll spend every waking moment wishing you’d never been <em>born</em>.”</p><p>Draco couldn’t speak, couldn’t think past the growing horror seeping into his bones, and then a hand cupped his genitals and started rubbing, and he had to close his eyes, because he didn’t want to enjoy this—this <em>fear</em>, this <em>humiliation</em>—but he was being touched by an Alpha, and his body knew it. His body sang with it, having craved it since the day he’d had his first heat.</p><p>When he started to get hard—when he started to get <em>wet</em>—he couldn’t contain the tears that began to stream down his cheeks.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Riddle hissed, and then—Draco froze in complete shock—licked the tears off his face as he began to twist his fisted hand up and down Draco’s erection. “Oh, you will look <em>so</em> beautiful when I wreck you.” His breath was hot against Draco’s ear. “And I will. I will do it once, and I will do it again, and I won’t stop until I ruin you beyond repair.” His fist was relentless around Draco, making him squirm in pain even as he moaned in pleasure. “You won’t even remember your own name. You won’t even remember how to beg for me to stop.”</p><p>After a moment, Riddle let go of him entirely and took a step back. Despite the relief that washed over him, Draco instinctively whined at the loss.</p><p>“Take off the robe,” Riddle said, and Draco couldn’t stop himself from complying, a renewed wave of fear washing over him as he realised the point to which his instincts had begun to take over. Just how easy it was for him to do everything Riddle commanded him to. “Hmm. Beautiful. Turn around.”</p><p>He could no longer see him, but he felt it in the air when he approached Draco again. His scent was everywhere, alluring, enrapturing.</p><p>A hand slipped into the small space between his upper thighs, fingers searching. Draco moaned low in his throat, hearing Riddle hum in appreciation when he found the wetness already coating all of Draco’s cleft and starting to slide down his thighs.</p><p>“Part your legs,” Riddle breathed into his ear.</p><p>Draco did. When he felt a hand pull roughly at one of his cheeks and a single finger slide up his cleft, he started to shiver.</p><p>“Alpha,” he keened, feeling himself slip into his primal state, unable to do anything to stop it. “Please. <em>Please</em>.”</p><p>“Not yet, little whore,” the Alpha said, pressing his fingertip to Draco’s arsehole. “You’ll see.” He started to push in, and didn’t stop, burying his finger into Draco all the way to his last knuckle as Draco cried out in pain and pleasure. “You’ll see. Once you’re mine, you’ll beg for me to stop.”</p><p>“No,” Draco panted, leaning back into the Alpha’s hot body even as a part of him hoped desperately to shut up, to run away, to hide from the man twisting his finger inside Draco, examining him carefully. “Never. It’ll never be enough.”</p><p>A chuckle in his ear. The Alpha took his finger out in one quick motion, making Draco wail with the pain and the loss, and then, stepping in front of Draco for him to see, brought the same, wet finger to his face and sniffed it deeply. Draco shivered, and he couldn’t tell anymore if it was from fear or from desperate want.</p><p>“Cover yourself,” Riddle sneered. “And get yourself cleaned while I speak to your parents. You’ll be mine tomorrow.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>His mother found him in his room an hour later. Crying.</p><p>“Draco,” she said oh so softly as she held him. He sobbed into her neck, unable to control himself, glad his father hadn’t come to see him alongside her. “Oh, my sweet boy. Are you not happy with our decision?”</p><p>He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t stop shaking.</p><p>“Shh, shh.” She pet his hair, something she knew he’d loved since he was a kid. “Riddle is a good man, darling. He’ll take good care of you. He’ll be a good father for your kids, I’m sure of it. And they’ll be so beautiful, with your hair and your eyes...”</p><p>Draco just shook his head, wishing he could explain. Wishing she could save him. Wishing tomorrow would never come.</p><p>“Darling,” she said again, and he sobbed, trying to crawl impossibly closer to her. “Darling, that man didn’t do anything to you, did he?”</p><p>He didn’t reply, but though his eyes were firmly shut—he couldn’t see through his tears anyway—he felt the way she stiffened.</p><p>“What did he do?”</p><p>Draco shook his head, trembling violently in her arms.</p><p>“Draco, please. Tell me what he did to you.”</p><p>“N-Nothing. He d-didn’t <em>do</em> anything. H-He just s-said…” Draco sobbed. “He s-said he wanted to h-hurt me.” A moment of silence. “Hurt me beyond repair.”</p><p>“Oh, my boy.” She held him closer, shushing him over and over, her hand in his hair. “My beautiful son. I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Her voice broke, and, for a moment, they cried together. She didn’t try to reassure him further: they both knew there was nothing she could do to help him. The purchase had already been processed; Riddle had already paid. Come tomorrow, Riddle would claim him officially and take him to his Manor.</p><p>And then Draco would be his for the taking.</p><p>“I’m scared,” he said when he’d run out of tears, voice small.</p><p>“I know, darling. I know.” His mother took another breath, as if to continue talking, but then seemed to change her mind. Draco looked at her, then, silently begging for her to come up with a way to turn back time. “There’s one thing that could be done,” she said very lowly, very sadly, looking into his eyes.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>She looked away from him.</p><p>“Mother, what is it?” he demanded, voice trembling.</p><p>She let out a deep, long sigh.</p><p>“There’s one thing that can lead to the cancellation of an Omega purchase.” Her eyes found his again, glistening with tears. “If the Omega becomes unchaste before the claiming is conducted, he loses all value. He becomes scum, a dirty animal. And the Alpha has every right to demand back the money he paid for it.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>“But—” Draco’s mind was reeling. “But I can’t do that. Father would hate me. He would cast me out.”</p><p>His mother nodded, solemn.</p><p>“And so would I.”</p><p>Tears began to well in Draco’s eyes once again. His mother caressed his cheek, wiping one away as it fell.</p><p>“It’s up to you, darling.” Then, standing up from his bed and making her way toward the door: “I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>For several hours, Draco tried—and failed—to fall asleep. He cried, and when he thought he’d finally stopped crying, he cried some more. He recalled every single word Riddle had said to him; the way his tone, his presence, had changed so drastically when he’d been left alone with Draco, going from a calm, serious, powerful Alpha nobleman to what Draco could only describe as a monster. He wondered, tossing and turning in bed, if Riddle was going to rape him. If Riddle was going to hit him—to bruise him, to break his bones—or if he was simply going to get Draco pregnant again, and again, and again, year after year until his ravaged body gave up.</p><p>He wished Riddle had told him what his plans were, because, by the time the first rays of sun hit the floor at the foot of his bed, Draco had created a clear mental image of himself, just a year from now, naked, tied up, and locked in a dark cellar. A placenta lying on the rotten, freezing floor between his thighs. Riddle walking in just to take his baby away from him. Walking straight back in to penetrate him while he was still dilated.</p><p>Shaking, Draco got out of bed and dressed himself in the least ostentatious robes he could find. He needed to get out of there before anyone else woke up.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The street was chilly; it’d been weeks since he and his mother had last gone for a walk, and the weather had gotten colder as the season advanced. Draco kept his hair hidden under his hood, careful not to look any of the plebeians going about their day in the eye. The town smelled like freshly baked bread, like frost. Once he was several streets away from the castle, Draco relaxed just enough to appreciate the way the cold, sunny day made the world seem to glisten with a subtle kind of magic. Someone was playing the fiddle, and the sound carried through the town and did a good job of lifting his spirits. He had no idea what he was doing, but he felt safe out here, amidst strangers that did not spare a glance his way.</p><p>Until the first pang of hunger reminded him of his stupid decision.</p><p>His family was rich, of course. He owned the most expensive fabrics and bathed in the most lavish lotions. Ate the most exquisite of foods, cooked by the best trained servants in the kingdom.</p><p>But he had never held a coin in his hands. There had never been a reason for him to. Inside the walls of the castle, everything he could ever need or want was available to him upon request, and when they went on walks through the town, on the rare occasion they wanted to purchase anything directly from a peasant, claiming their status was enough for them to get it for free.</p><p>Thus, it had not once crossed Draco’s mind that he would not have access to food the moment he wanted it. Not until it happened, and he realised he couldn’t disclaim his status if he was to remain hidden. His father would send his men to look for him the moment his absence was reported, and he couldn’t afford to leave traces of his whereabouts.</p><p>Morning turned into afternoon, and afternoon turned into evening, and Draco strayed further, breathing through the pain in his stomach, keeping his head down, and sneaking through alleyways whenever he heard his name being passed around, his father’s men giving detailed descriptions of him to passersby.</p><p>By the time the night fell, he could not keep lying to himself: he was terrified. He was freezing. He was starving. He had nowhere to go.</p><p>He had to go back and become Tom Riddle’s property.</p><p>He began to make his way back to the castle, staying close to building walls and away from street lamps as he did so. The streets were practically empty now, and the sound of horse hooves against pavement every few minutes was enough to make him panic.</p><p>He heard voices and looked up from the ground, the pain in his gut making it almost impossible for him to think straight. There was a group of men coming his way. Heartbeat quickening, Draco snuck into an alley; watched as they walked past. He’d decided to go back, but the mere idea of being found—of seeing Riddle again, of having Riddle’s hands on him again—made him freeze, made him want to run as far away as possible as fast as he could.</p><p>More men appeared from where the others had come from, and Draco slid down on the freezing pavement, holding his stomach with his hands to keep it from making noise even though he was well past that point now. When the cold seeped into his bones, Draco brought his knees to his chest. Hid his face between them, and allowed himself to sob silently. The tears warmed his cheeks a bit, at least.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>Draco jumped, and his head hit the wall behind him as he tried to scramble away from the voice.</p><p>“Whoa, careful,” the boy said. Draco just stared at the ground, waiting for him to grab his arm and drag him all the way back to the castle. The boy, however, stood where he was, presumably just staring at Draco. “Do you have a place to sleep?”</p><p>A whirl of loud voices came from the street, and a spike of terror ran through him when he recognised his father’s screams. Recognised the worry and, above all, the <em>rage</em> in his voice.</p><p>“No,” Draco told the stranger, shaking slightly. “I don’t.”</p><p>The boy—was he even a boy? He was petite, but his voice could have been that of a man—stretched out a hand.</p><p>“Come with me.”</p><p>The smell reached him, then. Powerful, deep.</p><p>Alpha.</p><p>“Get away from me,” Draco hissed, glaring at the hand. “If you think you can put your disgusting hands on me—”</p><p>“Whoa, whoa,” the man murmured. He sounded confused: like he’d not expected Draco’s reaction at all. “Do you...do you not know who I am?”</p><p>“And why on Earth would I know that?”</p><p>“Harry Potter. Does it ring a bell?”</p><p>It didn’t. Draco just glared at the hand still stretched out toward him, wondering if he should bite it.</p><p>“Look, I’m not going to let you sleep on the street on your own,” Harry said. “You’re an Omega. A young and beautiful one, at that. You won’t last the night here.”</p><p>“Oh, and I’ll last it with you?”</p><p>“Have I not been clear enough!” came his father’s screams. “I want every single street covered, and I want you to stay there all night, all week, and all <em>year </em>if necessary until we find him!”</p><p>His father was closer than before. Harry’s attention shifted to the small portion of the street visible from within their narrow alley.</p><p>“Fine,” Draco said quickly, afraid Harry would realise it was him the men were looking for. He grabbed Harry’s hand and stood. “Let’s go.”</p><p>He didn’t know where he’d expected Harry to lead him, but through the rotten doors of a dark cellar was definitely not it. Despite the decent state of the building it belonged to, the cellar looked abandoned from the outside, or at the very least severely neglected. It was covered in plants and hidden behind a trader’s wagon, and it would’ve been completely unnoticeable had it not been for the torch on the building wall that shed some of its dim, flickering light onto it.</p><p>“Where does it lead?” he asked, distrust taking over him again now that he wasn’t in imminent danger.</p><p>“Somewhere safe,” Harry told him, simply. Draco huffed. “You can look at my face, you know? I don’t mind.”</p><p>The idea of being discourteous around an Alpha appalled Draco, but he couldn’t say that out loud. Not if he didn’t want Harry to know just what his status was. So he looked up.</p><p>He looked up, and he couldn’t look away.</p><p>Harry’s eyes were a deep, bright green, and were all the more striking under his wide, bushy eyebrows. His black hair—wavy, messy, unkempt—hid the beginning of a jagged, deep, uneven scar that crossed his forehead and sliced his right eyebrow in half. He should’ve been hideous, threatening, scary. But he wasn’t.</p><p>No: he was probably the most beautiful man Draco had ever seen.</p><p>And he was a man, definitely: a young one, just like him, but a man nonetheless.</p><p>“Oh,” Harry breathed. “You really are beautiful.”</p><p>Draco could only shake his head, at a loss for words.</p><p>“Come on,” Harry said after a moment, shaking himself and looking around. He pulled open one of the doors to the cellar. “Let’s get out of here.”</p><p>Harry guided Draco, hand in hand in complete darkness, through what seemed like a never-ending set of stairs. When he halted, he squeezed Draco’s hand before letting go of it.</p><p>“Don’t talk to anyone if you don’t want to,” Harry said. “Most people here consider each other family, but they won’t disturb you if you decide to keep to yourself.”</p><p>“People?” Draco asked. But Harry was already pushing open a door Draco had not noticed beside them and stepping into a…</p><p>Well, into a cellar.</p><p>A cellar filled, as Harry had warned him, with people: with families curled over piles of sacks and clothes, the kids fast asleep between the adults. With people cooking, boiling broths that made Draco acutely aware of just the amount of pain he was in. With people chatting, knitting, sewing, drinking, <em>living</em>.</p><p>If the mixture of scents in the air was anything to go by, the vast majority of those people were Omegas.</p><p>“Are you hungry?” Harry asked, voice low. Not wanting to bring attention to them.</p><p>Draco nodded, desperately, and Harry chuckled; led him toward one of the boiling broths, nodded toward the people sitting around the fire, and grabbed Draco a bowl and a wooden spoon.</p><p>“Make yourself comfortable. Do you want me to stay with you?”</p><p>“No. Yes.” Draco just wanted to be in his beautiful, comfortable bed, surrounded by safety and luxury, in a world where he was not Tom Riddle’s property. “Yes, please.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>They sat down as far away from everyone else as the cramped space would allow. The food didn’t look appetising in the least, but Draco practically devoured it. Harry watched in silence, and, when he was done, brought Draco another serving. This one he ate more slowly: its appearance had been so misleading and his stomach so empty he hadn’t fully realised just how well it tasted.</p><p>“There are some buckets inside that cupboard if you need to alleviate yourself,” Harry said when Draco handed him the empty bowl again.</p><p>Draco nodded, glad he had taken care of that particular issue in a street corner just a few hours before. He looked around again, baffled that a room that should’ve been so unwelcoming had so successfully been turned into a communal living space.</p><p>“What is this place?”</p><p>“We call it the Burrow,” Harry said. “Molly, the woman cooking the broth you ate, and Arthur, her husband, are the owners of the building. They take people off the streets. It’s really not safe out there.”</p><p>“Right,” Draco said, “because the night is full of Alphas with bad intentions, I take it.”</p><p>“Basically, yeah.”</p><p>Draco looked Harry in the eye again, cringing inwardly, but knowing it would make him pass for a plebeian.</p><p>“Why are you here, then?”</p><p>To his credit, Harry blushed slightly.</p><p>“Well, Molly is like a mother to me. I…my actual parents are dead, and I don’t have anyone else. Besides…”</p><p>“Harry.” A young woman with outstandingly wild curly hair crouched beside them. Murmured into Harry’s ear: “There’s a group of men outside. They’re looking for an Omega nobleman by the name of Draco Malfoy.”</p><p>“Tell them we haven’t heard of him.”</p><p>“We did. They want to come in and check anyway.”</p><p>“I’ll talk to them.” He turned to Draco. “Stay put, I’ll be back in a moment.”</p><p>Harry disappeared behind the door that led up the stairs, but the woman didn’t follow him. When Draco looked up at her, she was staring right at him.</p><p>“Is it you?” she asked, loud enough for other people to hear. Panic flooded Draco’s veins.</p><p>“Do you think I would be here if it were me?” he sneered. “I can’t think of a single good reason a nobleman would have to stay the night in a place like this.”</p><p>She didn’t reply, but continued to glare at him. It was clear that she wasn’t willing to risk the safety of her people for the likes of him.</p><p>A moment later, several sets of footsteps descended the stairs, and while she looked in that direction, Draco quickly pulled at his hood to cover his face further. For a moment, he considered lying down and pretending to be asleep, but decided that could be enough for the woman to suspect him, and so he simply stared at the floor and tried to steady his breathing, following the two set of feet out of the corner of his eye as they made their way through the cellar, pushing and kicking past people and objects and grasping people by the hair to sniff their necks.</p><p>He realised too late they were following his scent.</p><p>“He’s here!”</p><p>A hand yanked his hood back; another grabbed him by the arm. Draco pulled back with a scream, but a punch to his head made him lose balance and he stumbled into the other man’s arms.</p><p>He froze—they all did—when an overwhelming smell permeated the air around them. Powerful. Divine.</p><p>He gasped. When he was let go, he fell to his knees.</p><p>“You will leave this place this instant.” It was Harry’s voice, a small part of Draco’s consciousness cared to notice. It was Harry’s voice, but it sounded like that of a God. “You will leave this man alone, walk out, and never return.”</p><p>One of the men that had come for him was an Alpha—the other a Beta—but it didn’t matter: Harry had turned into something beyond an Alpha, something Draco had only ever heard of in legends, and their bodies carried themselves to the stairs despite their efforts to get back to Draco. A moment passed, and the men were gone.</p><p>The silence was deafening.</p><p>Draco managed to look up and gasped.</p><p>Everyone was on their knees. Everyone. Even Molly; even the woman that had seemed so ready to get rid of Draco just moments before.</p><p>Everyone but Harry, who stood tall but a foot away from Draco. Looking down at him as if he were a dog. An insect.</p><p>When the smell started to recede, slowly but steadily, the people around them started to help each other up, and a hushed conversation began to pick up, but Draco didn’t move: he was anchored to the floor by Harry Potter’s Supralpha power.</p><p>“Why are they looking for you?” Harry’s voice reverberated in the room. “What do they want?”</p><p>Draco <em>whined</em>, high-pitched and beastlike.</p><p>“Please,” he slurred, the whine stuck in his throat. “Please don’t hurt me. Please.”</p><p>“Harry—”</p><p>“Not now, Hermione,” he growled.</p><p>“Harry, please take this elsewhere. The kids need to sleep.”</p><p>He faltered—nodded. Grabbed Draco by the robes, pulled him up the stairs and to the building entrance. Pulled a key from his pocket and opened the door. Harry pushed Draco inside, and Draco complied, holding on to what little consciousness he had left even though his whole body was begging him to submit.</p><p>“Those men endangered my people because they were looking for you,” Harry said after pushing Draco against a wall. His voice sounded only slightly more human. “Why?”</p><p>“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m s—”</p><p>“I said <em>why.</em>”</p><p>“Th-They sold me. My family sold me.”</p><p>“Go on.”</p><p>“T-To a man who wanted to hurt me. Wanted to leave me at the brink of death.” Draco was sobbing now, but there was nothing he could do about it. “I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t. I’d rather die a quick death than a slow, painful, inhuman one.”</p><p>Harry stared at him, searching Draco’s expression. His smell was still strong, but it was receding back into normal Alpha levels. When he spoke next, his voice sounded almost the same as before.</p><p>“What was your plan after tonight?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Draco said. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just needed to get out of there. I—my mother told me the only way to avoid being claimed by Riddle was to lose my chastity before the claiming ceremony. But that would mean my father and her would c-cast me out. I couldn’t bear the idea, s-so I just fled. I-I wasn’t thinking. How was I meant to decide between— between—”</p><p>“Hey. Hey, it’s okay.” Harry sounded soft, now. He caressed Draco’s forearm gently, and Draco’s sobs turned uncontrollable as he leaned into the touch, blindly, desperately. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Come here.” Draco did, pressing his face to the crook of Harry’s neck. “That sounds really scary. I’m sorry I scared you too. My instincts took over me, and I couldn’t...I’m really sorry I lost control the way I did. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”</p><p>Draco shook his head.</p><p>“Y-You didn’t—You fed me. You t-took me out of the street when you didn’t have to—”</p><p>“Shh. Shh, don’t talk. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”</p><p>Draco sobbed into Harry’s neck, all the fear, uncertainty, <em>terror</em> he’d experienced that day finally catching up with him and making him shake.</p><p>“They’ll come back for me,” Draco said after a few moments, the words wet against Harry’s throat.</p><p>“I won’t let them take you.”</p><p>“B-But I belong to him.”</p><p>A few moments passed, and Draco began to think Harry wasn’t going to reply, but then:</p><p>“Only as long as you’re chaste, right?” Harry asked hesitantly, caressing Draco’s hair.</p><p>He’d tried so hard to hide his hair, knowing it would make him stand out, would make him easily recognisable. And now Harry was petting it, his touch slightly different to his mother’s but soothing nonetheless, and he knew who Draco was, and his father knew where he was, and it wouldn’t be too long until they came back for him. Unless—</p><p>It was only then that Draco recognised the true question behind the one Harry had formulated. The true <em>offer</em>.</p><p>Draco nodded. As much as the idea sickened him, as much as it terrified him, losing his chastity was the only way he would be able to avoid becoming Riddle’s.</p><p>Then again, it would also mean he would never be able to go back home.</p><p>One way or another, he’d never go back home.</p><p>Harry’s hand started to rub circles on his back. It wasn’t sexual, but it also wasn’t <em>not </em>sexual: his fingers catching with his robes at his waist, his thumb finding the skin at Draco’s nape on its way up. Draco acquiesced, leaning into it, allowing Harry to explore his body at will. He rested a cheek on Harry’s shoulder. Murmured, tiredly, “I still won’t have anywhere to go tomorrow.”</p><p>It terrified him just how little he suddenly cared.</p><p>“Shh,” Harry whispered into his ear, hand moving lower and lower with every circle he traced, beginning to brush past the curve of his arse. “You won’t be alone. There’s a place for you here, if you want it.”</p><p>He just nodded, not wanting to reply. Not wanting to think too much about the fact he was condemned to live—illegally so, at that, since it was against the law to take in unclaimed Omegas that weren’t family—in a grimy cellar filled with strangers.</p><p>He concentrated on Harry’s heady scent and pushed away all other thoughts.</p><p>“Is it okay if I take you to bed?”</p><p>Draco nodded. A second later, his legs were wrapped around Harry’s waist and he was being carried through the halls of the house.</p><p>“Why are you being so kind to me?” Draco asked when Harry deposited him on a mattress; one not as comfortable as his, but comfortable nonetheless. “You know I’m yours for the taking.”</p><p>“And you know what I am,” Harry said. “You know what Supralphas are for.”</p><p>Draco nodded. <em>Protecting and defending</em>, the legends had taught him. <em>Although there have been terrible cases of Supralphas using their power to torment and enslave…</em></p><p>Harry’s hands were on his thighs. Rubbing, caressing, exploring. They weren’t in a hurry to part his legs, and Draco willed his muscles to relax. Willed himself to open his eyes: to watch as Harry, knelt over him, slowly pushed Draco’s robes to the sides and uncovered his body.</p><p>“Is this your first time?” he asked Harry. He didn’t know why he did—probably because Harry knew it was his, so it was only fair the knowledge was mutual.</p><p>Harry looked him in the eye, and seemed relieved that Draco was looking at him now.</p><p>“Does it matter?”</p><p>“I guess not.” Alphas were owners, not property, after all. They were free to use their bodies however they pleased.</p><p>Harry uncovered Draco’s stomach and chest. Held Draco’s ribs with hot hands and brought his thumbs to Draco’s nipples, circling them slowly. Watched avidly as Draco gave in to his Omega instincts and pushed his chest up, gasping for air at the amazing sensation.</p><p>Draco hadn’t closed his eyes, and saw the moment Harry’s gaze fell from Draco’s chest to Draco’s growing erection, nestled safely between Harry’s clothed thighs.</p><p>“Yes,” Harry said, breathless. “Yes, it’s my first time. I’ve watched other people, though. Er—often. I’m asked to look after Omegas’ safety during many claiming ceremonies.”</p><p>He didn’t know why, but the idea of this being Harry’s first time too unknotted something in his chest he hadn’t realised was there, constricting. Harry wasn’t going to hurt him, or use him. Harry was also losing his chastity, in a way.</p><p>Still circling his nipples with slow movements, Harry leaned forward. Draco groaned when Harry’s clothes pressed down against his erection, but the feeling was nothing compared to the ecstasy of Harry burying his nose in his hair and <em>sniffing</em>.</p><p>Draco reached up and grabbed Harry’s head, bringing it closer to his face and taking a sniff of his hair in return. His head spun, and he whined—a high, barely human sound—when he recognised the small changes in Harry’s scent. He smelled like Alpha, like power, like ownership—just the right combination to awaken Draco’s instinct to sink into compliance, into submission—but he also smelled like lust. Like need. He smelled raw, wild. Animalistic.</p><p>Frenzy running through his veins, Draco lifted his hips when Harry’s hands moved down the sides of his body to grab, fondle, and part his arse cheeks, touching his fingertips to the wetness that coated Draco’s cleft.</p><p>“Alpha,” Draco blabbered, incoherent. “Alpha, Alpha. Please.”</p><p>“Yes,” the Alpha growled, pulling back just long enough to remove his clothes and throw them on the floor. He lay on his chest, then, leaning forward: he looked up at Draco and nuzzled the wetness between Draco’s legs, rubbed his face against it. Buried his face in it, scenting himself with Draco’s smell.</p><p>The knowledge that the Alpha would smell of him—of what they’d done, of the way he had claimed his Omega—for days after this made Draco’s breath falter, made him ache, made him twitch and turn and <em>need</em>. All rational thought had abandoned him, and he was the Alpha’s, he was Omega, he was property, he was meant to be filled, impregnated, owned—</p><p>“Alpha,” he whined, heady. “Alpha, please, I need you, I need you—”</p><p>“Say you’re mine,” the Alpha said, desperate, as he sat back up and grabbed his own thick, reddened erection with a hand. The sight of it made Draco salivate.</p><p>“I’m yours,” Draco said without a thought. “I’m yours, I’m yours. I need you—”</p><p>The tip of the Alpha’s erection brushed against his rim, and Draco felt himself expand and contract as more and more discharge flowed out of him and rolled down his cleft, his cheeks, the bed.</p><p>The Alpha pushed in, breached him, and Draco mewled, long and high.</p><p>“More. More, more, more. Take me, have me, I’m yours. Alpha, I’m yours, I’m yours—”</p><p>“Mine,” the Alpha snarled into his ear. He’d leaned in, lifting Draco’s legs up to his shoulders, practically folding him in half. As he started to push in—a string of nonsense falling from Draco’s lips—he rubbed his cheek against Draco’s, scenting him, marking Draco as his.</p><p>Draco lifted his hips, meeting the Alpha halfway, encouraging him deeper and deeper into him. Once he’d filled him, the Alpha started to move at an unforgiving pace, and as Draco screamed and screamed, grabbing at the Alpha’s hair and neck and flexing shoulder blades in desperate need for something to hold on to, the Alpha penetrated him again and again, claiming him, growling, and snarling, and gasping, a string of <em>mine, mine, mine</em> getting caught in the small crook of Draco’s ear.</p><p>When the Alpha’s grunts began to shift into pants, high-pitched and desperate, Draco grabbed at his hair, unthinking, and pushed down to press the Alpha’s face against his shoulder.</p><p>He felt the teeth sink in but a moment later: it hurt. It was ecstasy.</p><p>In a second, Draco climaxed, and the Alpha—<em>his Alpha</em>—lifted his body further from the bed with rough hands and impregnated him with his own orgasm as he marked him as his own in a way that would always be visible to others; that would never fade from his skin. When their movements died down, the ruthless teeth were replaced with soft lips; with a tongue, warm and soothing against the wound.</p><p>His Alpha slipped out of him, rested his weight atop him. Slowly, their bodily fluids began to flow out of Draco, and as they did, Draco felt his mind begin to clear of the haze of his Omega instincts, of the haze of their lust. Felt sated.</p><p>He’d been claimed.</p><p>He’d succeeded in satisfying his Alpha in every way.</p><p>All was well.</p><p>Then reality hit him full force, and Draco started to shake.</p><p>Atop him, Harry shifted. Rolled back onto the bed, and held Draco close to him, intertwining their legs, bringing Draco’s face to the jut of his collarbone. And as Draco cried—cried for the past he would never return to, for the future he would never have, for the parents that had once loved him and would never again—Harry shushed him, lulled him, held him. Kissed Draco’s face everywhere and anywhere he could reach, and promised—over, and over, and over again—that he would always keep his Omega safe.</p><p>“But what if they refuse to leave me here even after seeing the mark?” Draco asked a long time later, only a blink away from drifting into sleep as Harry caressed his hair lovingly, rubbed their feet together to keep Draco warm.</p><p>Harry didn’t reply: didn’t have to. The way his scent immediately changed, expanded—threatening, merciless, brutal—told Draco everything he needed to know about the fate that awaited anyone who tried to take him away.</p>
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